Gray Rooms
by Ice Prince1
Summary: The BAU works two cases. One of the unsubs is targeting FBI agents the other killing kids in the Southwest.
1. Chapter 1

Gray Rooms Chap 1 divided

The Clues

Chapter 1

Rossi had moved to the buttersoft sofa in his office an hour earlier, but now felt that wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. He yawned widely, hunched his shoulders and then scrubbed at his eyes.

Fuck this, he thought, it has to be past time to go home. He stood and closed the folder he'd been working on. He realized he had no idea what it dealt with. Pulling on his sport coat he started out the door. He'd check on Hotch and then get out of Dodge. He didn't bother to put anything into his briefcase, he'd be back within six hours. The briefcase light in his hand he walked out of the office. He saw Hotch stretching and smiled, yep he was gonna excuse the group tonight.

Looking into Hotch's office he smiled. "Hey you going to go home tonight? I think you should take advantage of the quiet. Let's get a coffee so we can make the drive."

Hotch looked up at him as if he didn't recognize him for a split second.

"My god Dave, I can't believe it, but I think I was asleep. Coffee sounds good ."

"Yeah, I know the feeling, come on let's get out of town. Meet you at Peet's around the corner?"

"I'll catch up, just need a minute. I'll be right behind you. " Hotch stood looking around his office.

"Your keys are in the briefcase." Dave laughed tiredly.

A grin spread across Hotch's face. "Got it."

Hotch looked across the catwalk and saw Morgan still in his office. "I'm going to get Derek out of here."

Dave turned and headed toward the elevator, waving a hand as he went.

He leaned against the elevator wall, had the ride been long enough he wasn't all that sure that he'd not have taken a nap on the floor.

Walking out of the lobby he instinctively tapped the gun at his hip. The lobby doors let out into the light snow. He adored the light snow of Virginia, it was a totally different thing than the snow he'd grown up with in Long Island. It was like candy, it didn't try to smother you. He laughed at himself, romantic nonsense. But he looked up into the snow that flew through the streetlight.

The garage structure stood solidly near his building. He quickly looked back to see if Hotch was in the lobby yet. No, probably still talking to Morgan. The door to the garage structure required his badge to get into it; and that was, of course, on his shirt not his jacket or overcoat. Another sigh escaped him, he should have taken the covered pedestrian bridge to the garage. He did feel much more awake though so that helped, even if his stupid badge was nearly on his skin.

His phone rumbled and for a moment he thought he'd wait till he was inside to answer it. But as always he worried a case would have come up and he'd be late to answer.

"Rossi."

"Dave. It's Hotch I'm a few minutes behind you. You parked on 4?"

"Yeah, almost there. Don't tell me you don't want coffee?" Dave had almost called to cancel after his self search for his badge.

"No, just wanted you not to give up on us. Morgan's on 6 so he'll meet us at the store."

"Got it…"

And from nowhere Rossi felt an arm around his neck and another holding his arms down. "Say goodbye Dave."

There was no way Dave could speak. "Wha…what?"

"Dave?" from the phone.

"Dave can't talk to you now," the assailant looked at the phone identifier, "Hotch, he's busy."

Dave struggled with the assailant, but the man kept up the pressure on his throat. Dave's trapped arm tried to get to his gun, but he couldn't get it to work well enough. He was getting light headed and all he could think to say was, "why?"

"I'm going to catch the whole gang, no one will be safe from me. It's you. You did this, it'll all be because of what you did to me."

"Hotch," Dave whispered.

"You think he'll save you, you just don't get this whole set-up do you. Do you think you're my first target? No Rossi." And with that the assailant dropped his arm from Rossi's and took Rossi's gun from his nerveless hands. He held the gun to Dave's head.

Hotch and Morgan appeared across the parking lot from each other, Rossi and the assailant between them.

"Drop the weapon." Hotch called. "Let's talk about it, you haven't done anything that can't be worked out between us."

Morgan inched closer as Hotch moved in as well.

"You don't know what he did. If you knew you wouldn't protect him."

"Tell us," Hotch said calm and continuing to move in. "We listen, that's what we do."

Morgan was within a few meters of the gunman. "Come on man, it's late, let's get inside where it's warm and talk this out."

The assailant moved Rossi with him. "I will kill him. He ruined my life."

Hotch looked at Rossi who shrugged clueless of who the guy is.

"I don't understand. Do you have a name?"

The assailant looked at Hotch, "Do you think I'm stupid? Back off, back off." This to Morgan.

In an instant Hotch was rushing the man, who immediately dropped Rossi. "Down." Morgan called and fired. Hotch had his gun out and as he hit the ground realized the guy had taken a shot. Not at Rossi but at him.

The assailant ran from the garage, wounded and trailing blood. Morgan followed him into the dark and snow. Within a short period of time he lost him in the whiteout conditions. "Dammit, damn you to hell." Morgan ran back into the garage.

Rossi knelt over Hotch, Rossi had Hotch's phone in his hands. "Calling 911. Bastard took my phone. How the fuck does this phone work."

Morgan shot Rossi a look. "You ask it." Morgan took the smartphone from Rossi, slid it on and asked it to call 911.

Hotch lay face down on the asphault, his back felt like it was on fire. He turned his head to see Rossi's worried face. He grimaced with the pain then said, "this was my favorite overcoat."

Rossi's raised eyebrows made Hotch want to laugh, but he couldn't get past the pain. "I'll get you a new one. Hotch I'm so sorry."

But Hotch had lost his battle with consciousness.

Once the medics arrived Morgan helped Rossi to his feet. He had the medic check out the bruises on Rossi's neck. With just the warning to ice, take it easy and take aspirin Rossi started back into the building. Morgan stopped him. "Come on man, let me drive you to the hospital."

"I have to call Jack. Reid is going to kill me."

"Jack and Spencer are going to meet us at GW Hospital."

Dave nodded. "He said it's my fault somehow. Sounded like maybe I put him away. I don't know, the guy made no sense. But he told me Hotch was his first target."

"He told you that?" Morgan stopped. "Anything else you can remember?"

"Did you get a look at him? He held me so I could never see him."

Inhaling loudly Morgan tried to see the assailant. "White, dark hair, light eyes, something odd about his mouth, I'll get an artist to the hospital. Right now we need to be there when Hotch wakes up. You know how he is."

"Call Strauss we're going to need US Marshals."

"Rossi, listen to me, I'm going to take care of this. You just think about this guy. Anything you can come up with."

The Hospital

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They arrived at the hospital in time to already be sitting in the waiting room while Hotch was in surgery. Reid and Jack arrived, both looking a bit wild eyed and newly awaken from sleep. The driver from the FBI hadn't said anything when he arrived at their door but that they were needed at GW General. And of course they assumed the worst since the call from Morgan just before the car arrived let them know Hotch had been shot.

Jack's tearstained face made Rossi's heart feel crushed. He knelt down in front of Jack and hugged him saying, "your dad's in surgery, he's very strong, chances are really good he'll be fine."

"Coach? You wouldn't lie to me cause I'm a kid?"

Dave reddened. "No kid, I wouldn't. He's been shot, that's bad. But your dad, he's strong."

Sighing Jack nodded. "Okay. But don't lie okay, I need to know."

"What happened?" Reid looked about as pale as he'd ever seen him, and Morgan decided that was probably paler than when Reid himself was injured. Jack walked up and held Spencer's hand.

"Some guy was threatening Rossi. When we get back to work we'll start this as a case. Hotch and I were closing in and when we got close, he let Rossi go and hit Hotch who I'd just warned to get down. The guy must have been aiming low cause he caught him across the back. Missed the spinal cord, but went through a lung and out on his right side. "

Spencer released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Chances?"

"When we got here the chances were slim, but the surgeon just told us that his chances are now better than half. Cause Hotch's so strong. All that training." Morgan smiled. "That whole lean thing is workin for him."

Jack put his arms up so Spencer would carry him. And for some time they spoke quietly together. Spencer assuring Jack and then Jack would assure Spencer.

Finally Spencer sat with Jack clinging to him and both dozed for a little while. Waiting.

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The team worked unflaggingly on the case, resting only to visit Hotch or when they were just too tired to go on. But on reviewing Rossi's old cases and getting a drawing of the out to the press there were just no clues. Garcia used a facial recognition program that got no matches, but had contacted a friend at Cal Tech who ran a program with different parameters for facial recognition and his program was still crunching.

Reid was more distracted than usual, but worked at it almost as much as the rest of them. Nothing gelled, there were no further attacks, at least nothing similar. He worried the unsubs line, you aren't our first target, he is.

"Look guys, we're assuming he meant to get Rossi, but what if he really was after Hotch?"

"He was, he said I wasn't his target. But how would he know Hotch would follow me?" Rossi's exasperation bled through his worry.

"I know, I know, but he could have shot you, he could have strangled you."

JJ nodded in agreement, "He could have shot Morgan if it was just a guy in the FBI." Her phone pulsed. "It's Garcia."

"But he said it was my fault." Rossi murmured, totally not himself.

"He was playing you Dave." Prentiss frowned at her teammate.

JJ looked up with a smile. "Hotch has been responding, his chances just went up."

"I'm going." Reid said as he grabbed his coat and messenger bag.

"I'm with you." Rossi was at a near run up to his office.

"We'll follow." JJ said and Prentiss and Morgan started to gather their gear. Garcia was at the hospital already. She'd taken a book earlier that morning and was either reading to herself or Hotch.

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	2. Chapter 2

Gray rooms Chap 2

Foyet. The word was emblazoned on his mind. The pain was like a crystalline knife in his chest. He struggled to breathe, he worked to relieve his panic, his harsh breath. He fell into the horrifying empty blackness.

How could all those stab wounds be wrapped within his chest? He held the panic at bay. The peaceful blackness swallowed him.

Vaguely he heard the words of Harper Lee, whispered around the horror in his head. "'Real courage is when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.'" He tried to sigh, to breathe, but felt only the constant rushing input of air.

What's happening, was his thought as he succumbed again the the clear black.

The light outside of his closed eyes seemed dim, there was no reality. He floated for once painfree. He smiled when he saw Jack, the boy was sitting on a bench somewhere where winter was over. He could see snowy patches in the shadows and Jack waved at him with mittened hands. Still cold then. Reid stood and reached for him, but he slipped away. Rossi's head was down but Hotch sent a thought his way. Noones fault. He bumped into Morgan who seemed more real than the others.

"Listen to me."

Hotch raised his head, strange he remembered that Morgan was slightly shorter than he was, but maybe his dying had shrunken him somehow.

Oh, was he dead, maybe. The knife still seemed to be trapped in his chest. Not dead then.

"Listen to me."

Hotch opened his eyes. No. Was all he could think of. The knife was real, the machine that timed his breathing was real. His voice was mute.

"Listen to me."

He closed his eyes slowly, looking now for the ease of the blackness within.

"You need to wake up, Hotch, we need your help."

He opened his eyes. He looked at Morgan.

"Aaron you need to fight." Not Morgan. Spencer.

He opened his eyes and let his body relax, a tension he hadn't noticed.

"That's my boy." Not Spencer. Dave. He frowned.

"You're falling asleep, we've each just gotten about a sentence in." Emily smiled at him. She touched his hand. "It'll get better."

"' Before I can live with other folks I've got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn't abide by majority rule is a person's conscience.'" More Harper Lee. Hotch smiled at Penelope. He lay quietly listening to her read. The pain held at bay by her words. She tucked blankets around his shivering body.

"Would you like some water Hotch. They disconnected you from the vent thing."

He nodded, water sounded wonderful.

"Ughgh you can have ice chips."

Still he smiled at her. She gave him a few ice chips that he savored as he once would have a fine wine. She sat and continued her book.

The pain in his chest bloomed and he woke in near panic. "Foyet." He cried. "Haley?"

Spencer touched his shoulders. "Lay back, Aaron. Foyet is gone. Do you remember?"

The memory returned all at once and Hotch lay back hard against the pillows. "Dead." He licked his dry lips.

Spencer nodded. "Jack'll be here in the morning. He makes Jess bring him every day, he's waiting for you to wake up."

"No, how will I tell him…"

"Aaron, Haley's been gone for over a year."

He looked at Spencer uncertainly. He nodded and then the year came back to him. He lifted Spencers hand to his lips and kissed it. "I love you Spencer Reid."

"I love you Aaron. Do you remember anything about what happened, why you're here?

"I thought it was Foyet. The..the pain was the same."

"We thought it was someone after Rossi, but he told Rossi you were the target. Do you have any idea who it could be. Anyone who'd want to shoot you?"

"I don't remember. Wait, I was shot?"

"Yeah, you and Morgan rushed this guy holding Rossi."

He shook his head. "I don't remember, I really don't remember it at all."

"It's okay Aaron, it really is."

"When can I go home?"

"I think they want you to be able to actually get out of bed. The surgery went well. You had a collapsed lung, the bullet went through your back and out the side into your arm. It should have killed you."

"I'm a stubborn bastard."

"Hey that's my line." Spencer laughed. "Can you sleep a little while, Jack will be here about 9."

"Soccer?" Aaron whispered.

"It's okay Aaron."

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It wasn't the first time Jack had come to see his dad in the hospital, but the cold gray place was not where he wanted to visit if he didn't have to. Still every morning he'd ask his aunt if it was okay to go see dad.

He'd sneak into the room with Uncle Dave, or Uncle Derek, and Aunt JJ would just walk him in as if they belonged.

Aunt JJ was really the toughest and he liked her a lot. She was a lot like his daddy.

Today Papa Spencer met him as he walked into the hospital.

"They moved your daddy today, Jack. That's a good thing. He's out of ICU and now on the post surgical internal medicine floor. 318."

Jack allowed himself to be picked up and he put his head against Spencer's neck.

"I'm afraid."

"It's okay Jack, it means he's better. They've taken off that machine that was breathing for him. That's really good."

Jack nodded. "I can walk Spencer. Dad needs me to be strong."

Spencer half closed his eyes in consideration. "Your dad needs you to just be you."

"He's the tough guy."

"Yep, he's the one who gets to be the strong one, but for now you be tough and I'll be tough, til we can let him do that again."

"Spencer, are you going to take care of me now?"

"Yes Jack, for now, I'll take care of you."

He thought about it then nodded. "Okay, for now you're the main parent."

Spencer was taken back. "Okay, I'll be responsible." He was uncertain. "I've never had to do this before."

"You'll do fine." Jack sounded so much like his father that Spencer blinked at him.

"Let's go see your dad."

Grinning and not feeling it Jack walked into the room. Just like Spencer had said the machines had all been pulled away though some stood sentinel in the room. "Daddy." He called as he ran into the room. "Daddy. Are you okay?"

"Jack, come here." He tried to open his arms but was too wired up.

Jack looked at Spencer then at the casually dressed man he knew to be his daddy's doctor.

"Jump on up." The doctor patted a place on the bed.

Spencer swung Jack up onto the bed. Jack hugged his dad's neck, which seemed safe enough, then he held his dad's hand while the doctor checked dad's breathing and the wound. The doctor explained what the bullet had done and Jack solemnly listened.

"It's cause Dad chases bad guys."

The doctor looked surprised. "Not a safe occupation." The doctor said offhandedly.

"No, but he keeps the rest of us a lot safer."

Raising his brows the doctor then smiled. "You're right."

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Morgan sat in Hotch's office, he really wanted to throw something. Hitting something would be okay too. He looked at Hotch's tidy desk and shook his head. He'd visited Hotch's office trying to get an insight into who'd shot the man. But there just didn't seem to be any clues.

Nothing. Just a straightforward office of a man who won awards, knew important people and kept his written notes only long enough to get them into the computer journals he kept. The journals were impersonal to the point that the mind behind them seemed inhuman. It pissed Derek off. "Tell me something you bastard."

His phone chimed.

"What is it baby-girl?"

"I've found something. Did you know that Hotch keeps a calendar and has wee personal notes on it?"

"No, and yes you are amazing. Anything?"

"Well except that Jack plays an awful lot of soccer and up till this summer teeball. There's a note for a funeral in Houston about four months ago. He went with Dave. You remember the FBI agent Howell?"

"Barely, is there a connection?"

"Tenuous but, the suspect intended to wound rather than kill."

"When I yelled down, Hotch caught it in the back rather than around the knees."

"Four special agents were hit in that shooting. Howell was hit and his femoral artery was nicked."

"They have a suspect?"

"The man is in custody, but he's always denied it was him. He was never positively identified. They could have the wrong guy or it could be a group."

"Listen, Garcia see if anyone else connected with the FBI has been targeted."

"Will do m'lord."

"And Garcia, good catch."

"It's magic."

"Get everything they've got on it."

"As we speak."


	3. Chapter 3

Gray Room Chap 3

They worked the case. Each of them spent some time on tracking the shooter and then on the other cases that they consulted on.

Dave had even flown to Houston to talk to the suspect. But he knew right away that it wasn't the guy. For one thing he was too old and too big and didn't smell quite right.

So he'd flown back to Quantico and worked from there. In hopes to have more time working the case but it seemed serial killers were having a holiday and not the good kind. With Rossi's blessing Morgan took lead more and more. He'd had the experience, but didn't like it. It seems Unit Chief had become more political than expected. He had to rely on Rossi smoothing things over and calling in favors way too often for his comfort.

After only eight days of working to find Hotch's attacker the team was called into Strauss's office and told that they had to notch down their research and take up the case the second team had been working with little success.

Strauss handed JJ the file and nodded to Garcia. They both looked about to protest when Morgan said, "yeah, let's get to this, we'll work the other case in our off time."

The director gave him an appraising look.

"Ma'am I understand the urgency of this," he nodded to the file in JJ's hands, "but I'd like to have someone stay with the case."

"And I'd like that someone to be me," Reid said. "I can move with the team and…"

Rossi held up his hand, "Reid, you're way too close…"

"And you aren't?"

"Listen," Morgan raised his voice just slightly, "we'll all work it in any time we have available. Okay?"

Rossi nodded, Morgan stared at Reid until he gave in with a small wave of his hand.

JJ scanned the file. "This is a bad one."

"Conference room in 30, Garcia can you get it together for us."

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The conference room was as quiet as it usually was noisy. No one wanted to talk about the attack or the new case.

Morgan walked in, "Let's get started."

"Meet Lori Collins, of San Bernadino California, eight years old. Went missing four weeks ago. Her parents thought she was at an all night party at a friend's house. When she didn't come to school last Monday the school called her house. Her parents have a long record of drug violations. Her body was found two days ago in a State Park over a hundred miles away, she'd been sexually abused and shot." JJ was quiet for a moment.

"This is Charles Wilson of Scottsdale Arizona, nine. He went missing the following Tuesday. CPS was removing him from his abusive father when the car he was in was run off the road. In the confusion the child disappeared. He was found a week later sexually abused, mutilated and shot. His body was found in Colorado."

Reid shook his head. "Is the unsub killing them right away?"

"A boy and a girl, that's unusual right?" Garcia said with a frown.

"Pedophiles are almost always preferential." Reid commented shortly.

Rossi stared at Reid waiting for more.

JJ started again. "This morning Jacob Morris disappeared from Denver, the police there are asking for our help."

Morgan nodded, "The dump sites all look the same."

"Same body posing…are they wearing school uniforms?"

Rossi shook his head, "Looks like the uniforms some schools have gone to. Can we check out their schools. check for dress codes."

"On it." Garcia.

"Looks like we're going to Colorado; wheels up in thirty."

Quietly they made their way to their desks. Reid made his way to the Men's Room and dialed Hotch's phone. He knew Hotch was at rehab today.

"Oh hi Doctor Reid, this is Ellen Waring, I'm working with Hotch today. He's doing pretty well. "

A voice in the background said, "Don't believe her, she's trying to kill me."

"Left your gun at home again Hotchner?" The physical therapist joked with him. "Here he is," Reid smiled.

"Hey."

"Hi, Spencer." Hotch's voice sounded strained, short of breath.

"We've got a case."

"Out of town?"

"Yeah out West. The second unit asked us to step in and now there's another kid missing, I don't want to go, but I have to."

"Spencer it's the job, it's been great to have you here, but we both know the team needs you."

"You need to get better, I can't seem to concentrate."

"Stop this Spencer, please. I'm doing the best I can. You need to keep your head in the case. I'm a tough bastard, you've said that." Hotch coughed as he ran out of breath, which caused him to groan in pain. He worked at centering himself, at not coughing. It felt like a fiery knife cutting through his body.

"Ellen again Spencer, we're helping Aaron. Now you do your job okay, catch the bad guys for us. Jess and Jack are here in the waiting room. Everything is going to be okay."

It didn't sound okay to Spencer. "Are you sure?"

"I've been doing this awhile Doctor Reid."

Spencer smiled remembering the little white haired therapist. "Tell him I'll call him from the plane."

"I'm thinking sleeping will be on his agenda for awhile, I'll give his phone to Jack."

"Okay tell him I'll call once they get home."

"Will do, give em an hour or so. Bye."

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The team gathered on the plane and in thirty minutes were belted in and taking off. Again the only sound was the shuffling of paper and the whispers of surprise as picture after picture of the crime scenes hit their tablets.

Spencer held Hotch's tablet in his hand. He felt that the presentation on the tablet was soulless, but he was getting used to it. Besides the tablet was part of who Hotch was and Reid clung to it.

"What have we got?" Morgan spoke loud enough to be heard over the sound of the jet's engine.

Garcia's image showed on the jet's screens, "Rossi, the two kids did not go to schools requiring uniforms and the parents all say that wasn't what their kid was wearing when they were last seen. The surviving social worker said that little Chuck was all about color and was wearing a red tee shirt last she saw – it was noted in her case book. She said she saw it as a good sign."

"And Lori?" Morgan asked.

"Her parents had no clue. Honestly Morgan I think it'll take days before these two will hit planet earth."

"Poor kid." JJ started and stopped, Lori was gone now.

"So maybe our unsub thinks he's helping these kids." Rossi thought outloud.

"How's he finding them, there's got to be some research, something?" Emily frowned.

"Who would do this?"

"Look at this picture guys. Lori is a little tomboy. I wonder if our unsub is preferential?"

Rossi raised his brows. "Damn. They all looked very much alike, with their short blond haircuts and dirty faces. Each smiled brightly. What do we know about Jacob?"

"We don't have much on Jacob, he was adopted at birth and his adopted parents were recently killed in an accident. Oh, poor kid. More when I get it." Garcia signed off.

Morgan looked up, "Let's talk to the parents and teachers. JJ you and Reid set up in Denver; talk with Jacob's family and teachers, Emily can you go to California and talk to Lori's people? I'll go to Scottsdale with Rossi?"

Everyone nodded.

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We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. ~Stacia Tauscher

California

Emily had had the plane to herself from Phoenix and had spent the time reviewing the case and looking at the pictures of Lori alive and dead. She already was pissed off at an unsub who would hurt a child this much.

She was pretty sure she always got the not quite in this world parents and suspects to talk to. Well that wasn't quite true, usually Hotch got the really out there folks. She missed her boss and friend horribly, she'd sit with Reid for hours listening to him mumble and cry. Luckily Hotch seemed to finally be improving, walking carefully around the home he, Reid and Jack shared. At the weekend he'd even helped Jack make breakfast, even if it was bagels and glasses of milk.

And she knew that Reid had broken down and talked to JJ, the line that had been herself dissolving because JJ was Hotch's friend and had been Reid's. There were times when she saw them talking in the break area and felt a tight knot inside her unravel. She so wanted things to go back to where they'd been a year ago.

She'd been thrilled to overhear Spencer talking to Jack, actually listening to Jack. The child had asked his dad if Spencer could adopt him. Again she'd seen Spencer cry, his long fingers trying to brush away his helpless tears. Jack had been so concerned he'd talked to Uncle Dave.

She walked into the San Bernadino Sheriff's office feeling ready to get started. The desk sergeant smiled, "you must be the FBI?"

Nodding she held out her hand, "Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss. You must be Deputy Costain."

Taking her hand in his he said, "Call me Jerry. I have you set up for interviews in a conference room, is that okay, it's about the most informal area I could manage. It also has wi-fi and your technical analyst is waiting for your call."

"That's Garcia. So can we bring the parents in, I'd normally try to visit them at home, but our information is that they were evicted?"

"All true, I'm not sure what you'll get from them, seriously away with the leprechauns those two. Though if they're here we might hold them until we can make sense of what they say. I've also asked Lori's 3rd grade teacher and a cousin to come in. The sleepover was a dead end, we're thinking it was just another crackhouse. Poor kid."

Prentiss sighed softly, "all we can do is try. I'd like to see the parents separately if I can."

"No problem, and Mrs Lee the third grade teacher is here."

"Let me talk to my tech and I'll be right with her." She pulled her phone from her jacket and powered it on. "What ya got for me Garcia?"

"A hunka hunka burnin' love."

Prentiss barked a laugh which got a good half of the station looking up in her direction, most not believing the classy dark suited woman could be the source.

"No seriously before I'm ejected from the police station."

"You're about to talk with Lori's third grade teacher, right."

"Mmmhmm."

"Well, just so you know, she reported to CPS about possible abuse by Lori's parents."

"Are we thinking somehow the unsub has a connection with child protective services?"

"In three states?" Garcia sounded doubtful. "Still it connects her and Charles. We're still working on Jacob."

"Anything on Mrs Lee?"

"You sneaky agent. Why yes Mrs. Lee is a divorced woman with two kids who are now out of the home. She's taught for more than twenty years and has reported three children over that time for suspected abuse. She's well loved as a teacher and nearly 80 percent of her students go on to finish highschool but more than half finish college. How's that for stats? Mrs Lee is an avid reader and takes piano lessons. She's travelled to Europe and does home depot runs every few weeks."

"She needs to adopt me."

"Maybe she'll take the whole team?"

Prentiss stuck her head out of the conference room door, Costain looked up from a nearby cubicle. "I can see Mrs Lee now."

Costain nodded and walked over to reception.

Shaking hands with Mrs Lee, Prentiss apologized for making her wait. Mrs. Lee waved a kindle lightly, "I was okay, gave me a few minutes to get into my book."

"I wanted to talk about Lori."

Mrs. Lee's face suddenly seemed to be fighting tears. "Oh dear, I've been promising myself I'd be objective and not cry."

Prentiss handed her a tissue.

"You know most people don't think of children as people." She stopped. "But Lori was such a force. Let's face it she had so little going for her." She bit her lip and threaded her fingers through graying dark hair. "She came to my class barely reading, her writing almost non-existent, but she just kept at it. She asked what she and her classmates thought might be dumb questions, she was such a fighter." Mrs. Lee gasped through her tears, "we were going to promote her through to 5th grade, she'd done that well."

"You say she was a fighter?"

"Not physically, she was very small and though she dressed in jeans and teeshirts she wasn't a robust kid, I think it could have been malnutrition, but I can't say for sure. But she loved to run and play. She'd rarely come to school clean, that was a problem until I talked the principal into letting her shower in the teacher's lounge restroom. Her father had shaved her head at Christmas and the kids gave her some grief over it, but she really didn't have trouble with bullies – of course her cousin made sure of that."

"Did she ever talk about a stranger in her life."

Mrs. Lee looked at Prentiss. "I picked her up at home one morning when she'd not appeared at school, the house was full of homeless, very high people. There was Lori, trying to get her mother to eat. Do you know what she told me as we drove off, I was feeling an extraordinary rage, she said, Don't worry Mrs. Lee they're all doing the best they can."

Prentiss reached over and held the older woman's hand. "And she knows that you did your best for her Mrs. Lee, your very best. Why don't we take a break, if I need anything else I'll call or visit you at your home."

Mrs. Lee nodded. "That Friday I'd talked to her about skipping a grade, about the world opening up for her. That she could do whatever she wanted when she grew up. She went quiet and said she was happy she'd be in her cousin's grade and she wanted to help people who were addicted, she wanted to find a way to ease their pain. She's eight, was eight."

"Mrs. Lee have you discussed Lori with anyone not directly involved in school?"

"I think I mentioned Lori to a friend of mine, an old teacher of mine who I talk to at a senior center class I teach. Professor Hill. And I'm sure I mentioned her once at a meeting at the women's center. I'll get everyone's name."

Prentiss smiled. "Let me give you the card of our technical analyst, can you call her or email her the names?"

"I'm so sorry I can't help crying, I've taught so many children and I love them all, but some really put a stamp on my heart."

"Yes, I know how that can be. Are you okay to drive?"

"Oh no worries, Jerry'll take me home. He's one of mine." She grinned through her tear stained face.

After Mrs. Lee left Prentiss sat still at the conference table, she felt drained, as if she'd been crying rather than the teacher who'd just lost her best and brightest student.

Standing she removed her jacket and wished she hadn't dressed for a Washington spring. San Bernadino was already in early summer. Her dark blue blouse felt almost sticky. She hoped she had a t shirt in her go bag.

She studied and listened to the recording of the interview, she sent it to Garcia for distribution. She considered calling Reid for an update on Hotch but figured Garcia would send an email if anything new was going on.

Coffee was delivered to the conference room and she smiled, she'd make it.


	4. Chapter 4

Gray Rooms Chap 4

Spencer stared at the map of the Southwest, he had hoped to find a decent pattern. "It has to be the child protection system, it has to be."

"Yeah," JJ said, "but how? The states aren't connected."

"Aren't there conventions, education programs?" Spencer thought, then tapped the number for Garcia. "You're on speaker, JJ and I are here. So Garcia do social workers have conventions?"

"Oh, my dear boy genius, every interest group has conventions. Do you want me to check out meetings, and education seminars for teachers social workers dealing with children."

"You took the thought out of my brain."

"Why thank you, as fast as my fingers can inquire."

"How's Jack," JJ asked before Spencer could form the words.

Garcia uncharacteristically licked her lips with nervousness. "Jack's with Jess, he's okay. Hotch was re=admitted to the hospital this morning."

"What?" both JJ and Reid questioned.

"When, w-why?" Spencer's nerves caused him to stutter.

"I just found out minutes ago, I just didn't know how to tell you."

"Garcia, what's going on?" JJ looked pale and angry.

"Pneumonia they think. They think it'll be fine, but Spencer they might call you."

Spencer sat in silence. "You'll find out about the social workers right?" He was breathless.

JJ stood behind him and put a hand on Spencers shoulder. She squeezed so that Reid looked at her and nodded.

JJ said to Garcia, "at those meetings do they ever do case studies, these kids seem like they could be part of that sort of thing."

"On it, and guys I'll get back to you with anything I hear about Hotch."

"Good." JJ tapped the phone to End the call.

"I have to go back to Virginia." Reid said.

"Hotch wouldn't want that, you know that." JJ replied.

"I can't keep my head in the case."

"You know how Hotch feels about cases with children, he would hate you leaving it for him."

Reid hung his head, trying to organize his feelings and thoughts. "You're right, if a child was lost I'd blame myself and he'd blame himself. Damn, this isn't how it should be."

"That's how life goes sometimes, Spencer."

At that moment the lead Denver detective walked into the conference room where JJ and Reid had set up. "They found Jake!"

JJ looked up.

"He's hurt and pretty freaked out but he's alive."

"A witness." Reid said.

"A victim." JJ corrected. "Where did you find him?"

"In the city, near a small park right in Cherry Creek."

"Do you think we can talk to him." JJ asked.

The detective shrugged. "He's not talking yet, like I said the guys who brought him to the hospital said the kid was freaked out. But sure why not. I'll call social services. Would you like to follow me?"

JJ nodded and she and Reid grabbed jackets and headed out to the FBI Suburban and followed the detectives Crown Vic.

Within ten minutes they pulled into the hospital parking lot. JJ was still on the phone arranging protection for the boy as Reid drove into the parking space. They nodded to each other and headed in.

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Scotsdale

Rossi sometimes thought that victimology came to close to blaming the victim for what happened. As if a kid could control the fact of blond hair.

He looked at the Medical Examiner's table and looked away. The unsub had nearly torn the child apart. There was a lot of anger there. And yet, and yet the boy had been cleaned up and dressed in gray slacks and a white dress shirt, a blue sweater found nearby.

Morgan shifted slightly, he'd never get used to the sight of the victims, and especially the small ones.

"Overkill. Why? What is going on with this guy? Surely he's not paying back bullies, these kids are small for their age."

"Sometimes," Rossi spoke slowly, "sometimes there's no good answer."

Morgan nodded. "Let's talk to the case worker. I can't stay here."

"Go ahead give me a minute."

Rossi looked at the Medical Examiner as they walked out of the morgue. "Was there something out of the ordinary?"

"The whole thing was out of the ordinary, but there was the one thing that was unexpected. Charles was well fed, just before he died, he'd had a nice meal."

"The unsub cooked for him?"

The ME shrugged, "more likely restaurant quality, grilled chicken, baked potato, a few carrots."

They both removed and tossed away their gloves.

"How long?"

"Within the hour, nothing was digested, the kid might have been killed in the parking lot. The injuries are mostly post mortem."

"Except the assault."

The ME nodded.

"He might have been trying to make it up to him."

"Likely."

"Thanks, good job."

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Rossi swung into the SUV and Morgan started the motor. "I hate the cases with kids."

"Charles had a meal just before he was killed."

Morgan looked at Rossi, "that sick son of a bitch."

"That's what I thought."

They drove in silence to the Scotsdale Sheriff's office. They greeted the case detectives and set out to get some work done. Within the hour the surviving social worker, Sutton Barros arrived. Still in a sling with a huge bandage over his right eye. He walked carefully into the conference room.

"We want to thank you for coming in, if there's anything you need?" Morgan left the question open.

The young man sighed and nodded, "if I could have some water?

Rossi walked out of the room to get some water.

"Mr. Barros, can you tell us anything about Charles, or about the wreck?"

The young man cleared his throat, "I. I wasn't his worker really. I was just with him, just delivering him to a short term foster family."

"So you didn't know him at all."

Rossi handed the social worker a bottle of water and one to Morgan, he set his coffee on the table. Morgan smiled his thanks. "So Mr. Barros doesn't know about Charles. He was just transporting the kid to a foster home."

Rossi's eyes snapped. "You often drive kids from their parents to foster homes? Like repossessing a car?"

"No, no, I talk to them sometimes."

"Did you talk to Charles? Was he upset, crying. He was eight years old…"

"He was okay, I asked him if he knew what was happening. He knew."

"So you don't have an opinion?"

"He was a good kid, quiet mostly, seemed bright enough."

"Bright enough for what?"

"Look I was a victim too."

"Charles is dead."

Barros looked at Rossi. "I thought he just wandered off."

Morgan looked at Barros, doubt suddenly blooming. "Did you see him after the car skidded to a stop."

"No, no, he was suddenly just not there."

"Can you just rest here for awhile Mr. Barros?" Morgan nodded to Rossi, wanting to talk.

Outside the room and out of earshot Rossi turned to Morgan. "Something's going on with this guy, he knows something."

The detective walked up to them. "The third child has turned up alive in Denver."

Morgan and Rossi smiled at the detective. "Anything?"

"Your folks are on their way to the hospital to talk to him now. Oh and the foster mother is here, it sounds like she had taken Charles in on a previous occasion. Actually his aunt."

"Ms. Wilson?"

"That's me," the woman who walked toward them was small and though not beautiful had a plain sweet look about her. She offered her hand to Morgan then to Rossi. "You're going to get the bastard who took Charles." A statement rather than a question.

"We're going to do our best. Would you come into the break room with us."

"I'd love something cold to drink." In the break room she walked up to the soda machine and selected a diet pepsi. She took a long swallow. "Now, how can I help?"

"Do you know the caseworker Sutton Barros?"

"He's the new guy, I've met him once I think. Quiet, the kids are okay with him though."

"What can you tell us about Charles?" Morgan asked.

"I wish you could have met him, he was a firecracker. Funny, smart, good dresser and never walked when he could run." She smiled to herself. "I wished I could have taken him, his father, my brother is hopeless. Leaves the kid alone when he travels. But when he started hitting him and yelling it was too much. When he broke the child's arm it was too much for me. He's like our dad, no patience." She stopped suddenly, "I keep expecting to see him. I'm sorry." She took a drink. "I just never thought…"

"Do you think your brother could do this?"

" , I don't think he even likes kids. Morgan walked over to the detective, "Can you put Barros in an office or holding?"

Whitmore nodded, "You want the father, he answered his phone a minute ago, at his Scottsdale address."

Morgan patted his shoulder, "Good thinking."

"Oh wait, on the news just a few minutes ago. An FBI agent was shot in New York, an agent Snow."

Morgan's breath caught, he flicked on his phone.

"I was just going to call you. We have another shooting. Not fatal. We've sent the second team. There's a suspect in custody."

"Get Prentiss there, route the plane here to pick up Rossi."

"Done and done."

Morgan walked back into the break room. He motioned Rossi to him. "Andi Snow's been shot, not fatally. I want you to go to New York, you have time, we're bringing Prentiss and the plane here for you."

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Virginia

Jack paced, his little body tight, tears streaming down his face. Jess caught him as she walked in from getting water. "Jack you have to stop."

"I don't remember mommy, I see the pictures but I don't remember her."

"I know, I know sweetheart. You were so young when she died."

"Killed, mommy was killed."

Jess nodded as she held him to her, his head hot and moist. He continued to cry. "And daddy is killed. And I won't remember him."

"No, no Jack don't say that, don't think that. Your daddy's going to make it. Sometimes when people have surgery there are complications. Pneumonia is that. And your daddy is a fighter, he'll make it. He wants to live, he loves you so much."

"I love my daddy so much, I'm so scared now."

"I know, me too. And Poppa is and Uncle Sean."

Jack settled in the seat next to Jess, he got out one of his books.

Sean Hotchner walked in, he looked like he felt, tired disheveled and worried. He'd gotten off his job as chef in a small but well reviewed restaurant in New York and boarded the train for Virginia hours before. He put his hand on Jack's head and Jack looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He got out of his chair to hug his uncle.

Sean sat and groaned, Jess smiled, "long trip."

"Unbelievably. Come here Jack."

Jack stood in front of him. Sean lifted him to his lap and Jack eased himself against his uncle. He was about cried out. But held his uncle.

"Tell me about when daddy was young."

"I can tell you some, he was a teenager when I was born. I was a surprise baby."

Jack smiled. "Was I a surprise?"

"No honey, you were planned and hoped for all the way."

"Good, but surprise is good too."

Sean nodded. "Well momma used to tell me that your dad was always a good boy, a little quiet and thoughtful, but smart, loved to joke, loved to read. Everyone liked him at school, except for this one boy who thought your dad was a show off – which he wasn't, he was just smart and friendly."

"I remember this one time that a couple kids ganged up on me on the playground when I was little and Aaron just walked over and lifted them by their waists and took 'em each to their mothers and told them they were picking on his little brother. No one ever bothered me after that."

"Mom used to say that Aaron would hide at the local library when he was about 12 and our dad was unhappy with him."

"So what happened with the boy who bullied daddy?"

"I think he and your daddy went to Alabama and played football together there, then Harvard Law together, they're friends now. But he's still way bigger than your daddy."

"Bigger than daddy?"

"Well way wider and a little taller. Your Uncle Walt."

Jack's brows flew up. "Uncle Walt was mean to daddy."

"Yep got them both in trouble too, cause your daddy yelled at him after Walt had bloodied his nose."

"No."

Sean smiled. "Your daddy was really mad and called him a bad name."

Jack smiled back.

The nurse appeared at the waiting room door. "Jack?"

"That's me."

"Your dad wants to see you, now you have to be very quiet, your daddy is still pretty sick."

Jack walked with her, very stolid, very self controlled. No tears.

The doctor walked in right after and offered a small smile. "He's going to be okay, the antibiotics are doing their job. He's very tired of the hospital, but I'm keeping him here for at least a few more days. We need to set up a home nurse for awhile. I think he'll heal better there, too many sick people here."

Jess nodded, "that'll be great."

Sean sat, his hand over his eyes.

Jess sat next to him. "Take it easy, this is great news right."

A tear fell from his face, "I spent the whole trip here thinking I'd be too late. I've been a horrible brother you know. He nearly brought me up and I just treat him like dirt."

"No Sean, he loves you, he's talked to me about how proud he is that you're living your own life."

"Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

California

Prentiss rolled her eyes. Lori Collins' parents really were as out of touch as she'd been warned. The father only vaguely aware that he had a child, the mother slightly more aware but kept insisting Lori was at school with that nice teacher.

Even news and pictures of Lori got little reaction, though her mother touched the picture gently and wept. "She's such a good little girl."

"Is there anyone you know who seemed interested in her, unusually interested?" Prentiss pressed on.

The woman looked for a moment completely sober as she thought. "One of the social workers, or state workers, he asked about her. I wanted to hide her away." Then she seemed to lapse into a drugged induced state. "He smiled at her, said he didn't like her haircut." Then completely sober, "that's why James shaved her head, to keep her safe."

"Do you recall what he looked like, how he spoke maybe?

Mandy scowled frowned tried to remember. "Light hair, thin mouth, smiled all the time. Light eyes and he wore a blue work shirt under his jacket."

"Thank you Mandy, if you think of anything else," she handed the woman her card, "call me."

"I tried Agent Prentiss, I just can't…."

Emily nodded. "I know, you did the best you could."

"I love that little girl."

Emily felt a sudden burning in her eyes.

She opened the door and nodded to Costain. He looked at her and asked, "anything?"

"Not much, can you take Mrs. Collins home. We're done I think."

Prentiss packed up her tablet and jacket and headed out the door, thanking Costain for all his help.

She lifted her phone, "Garcia."

"Oh Emily, Hotch is getting better."

"What?"

"Oh I didn't call you." She mimed shooting herself though no one could see her, "anyway, Hotch had a complication from surgery, pneumonia, but he's doing better."

"Garcia you're dead when I see you again."

"So now, in New York there's a new suspect for these shootings. Andi Snow is recovering, she was shot on her way out of the building, hit right near the ankle, lots of damage but the surgery looks like it went well."

"The suspect?"

"One Eric Longwell, he was jailed 20 years ago for murder by Agent Harold Huff in Seattle."

"Was Hotch in on the bust?"

"He was, though it was when he was a baby agent. Long memory I guess. No a second connection, the funeral."

"Rossi?"

"Not so far as we can tell. But he did write a chapter in one of his books that included this guy, so he might have consulted. Oh, I nearly missed it, what is wrong with me? Hotch testified against him, Huff shot him. Emily, Huff died last year."

Emily nodded to herself. "I'm nearly at the airport Garcia. I'll see you soon."

"Enjoy New York!"

"As if."

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JJ was quiet as they walked up the stairway to Jacob's hospital room. The rest of the team had asked her not to update Hotch's condition to Spencer until after the interview with the boy. She hated them all for it.

"You okay Jayje?" Spencer looked down at her, his concern palpable.

She felt like a traitor. "I'm okay, just worried about the boy."

Spencer nodded. He'd hoped JJ would take the lead in the interview, but she looked shaken. "Henry okay?"

"He's fine, Spence, sorry I really do feel out of it. Can you talk with Jacob? I'll be right there with you."

"He might trust a woman more…"

"Let's play it by ear."

"Yeah." Spencer said unsure.

The FBI had two armed guards outside the door. JJ and Spencer offered their ID's and were allowed in. The hospital room was cool, the city had opted for a private room, the boy was awake and watchful. The IV in his arm dripped like a metronome. He was heavily bandaged over the chest and a stick thin leg was propped on a pillow, bandaged.

Spencer walked up close to the bed, Jacob's eyes followed him. "Hi, I'm Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."

Jacob looked at the ID Spencer held for him to see, he reached slowly for it. He looked for a long time at the picture then at Spencer. He gently handed it back. "Mr. Reid." He whispered.

"If you want to, you can call me Spencer."

"I guess you can call me Jacob. No one calls me Jake no more."

Spencer nodded. "You've had a bad couple weeks."

Jacob couldn't hold his tears. "I know I shouldn't cry. "

"It's okay, everyone cries."

Narrowing his eyes Jacob looked questioningly at this FBI guy. "Not everyone."

"Pretty near, and you know what, it doesn't matter. Crying is okay."

Jacob sniffled.

"Jake? That man who took you. Can we talk about him. See, he might hurt another kid if we don't find him soon."

"Spencer, I was so afraid."

Reid nodded and let the silence endure. JJ found a chair and admired how Reid was with the boy.

"I'd met him before, you know before he came to get me."

"Do you remember his name? Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"I met him in the hospital where mom and dad were." Jacob stared out the window. "He was supposed to drive me to a house for the night."

"I fought him, cause I didn't want to leave my mom and dad. I'm adopted, they loved me so much. I couldn't leave them in the hospital alone."

Spencer cleared his throat, "I had to leave my mom in the hospital."

Jacob nodded. "I think he was a volunteer in the hospital."

"Was he white? Black?"

"White person, he had really light hair, he had on those nurse clothes. Blue."

"Do you remember anything else, at all? His name?"

"His card said Art something. He told me he'd just been in a car accident. Oh yeah he had a black eye. I asked him if he took judo, cause I got a black eye doing that once."

"How're you holding up Jake, we could come back later."

"Will you come see me again?"

Spencer pursed his lips and bouncing back on his heels smiled at the boy nested in the hospital bed. "You bet. " He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "You need anything, you call me."

Jacob smiled then frowned, "I don't know what's going to happen to me."

Spencer sat back down. "Your mom and dad have provided for you, your Grandma Isabelle Ames will be here early tomorrow morning, she'll be your guardian. Are you okay with that?"

Relief seemed to swamp the boy, "I hadn't thought, I didn't think, yes I'm okay with that. Mama Issy is the best."

Spencer moved toward the door. "Oh Spencer, there was another kid with him. Will you find him."

Even though he nodded Spencer felt cold. "We'll try Jake."

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Hotch moved carefully in his cocoon of blankets. He listened to his heart monitor, he felt the faraway IV dripping into his hand somewhere. He wanted to cough, badly. But knew, without knowing how, that would be painful. And he just wasn't ready for more pain.

With a lot of effort he opened his eyes to a room in dusk, or possibly dawn. Jess sat by his bed, she was asleep in what looked like the most uncomfortable plastic chair ever designed. "Jess," he whispered.

Jess woke with a grin. "There you are, how you doing for air?"

"Short." He tried to move up in the bed, which caused his pain to spike.

She nodded and walked and stretched out of the door. Returning almost immediately with a very serious looking nurse.

"Agent Hotchner, you need to stay down. I'll raise the bed a bit if you need help breathing."

Hotch nodded, he needed more than a raised bed, he was pretty sure. But somehow it did help.

The nurse smiled, her seriousness banished. "Gravity," she said as if taking credit for it.

The nurse bustled around him taking vital signs, writing into his chart. "We're going to try to get you out of bed today."

She and Jess both smiled at the groan emanating from the bed.

"No worries, just into the chair. You good with that?"

"The chair," he stared at Jess's deserted chair.

"No, no we'll get you a real one."

"Not right now though."

The nurse hooted with laughter, "nah we'll drug you up first."

"Aaron, I'm going to tell Sean and Jack you're okay. You up for either or both of them?"

Hotch closed his eyes, "I hate for Jack to see me like this."

"Oh Aaron get over it, he saw you when you were first in here with your chest shot up and blood dripping on the floor."

"Jess you can be an unpleasant woman." He whispered between strangled breaths.

"Why thank you kind sir."

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Jack walked slowly down the hall to his dad's room, his head was down. Sean looked at his nephew. "You know your dad needs you right now?"

"I want my real daddy back, so he can take care of me."

"Listen Jack, your daddy will take care of you for years and years, you only have to hold on and be strong for a little while. Jack your daddy still takes care of me, still worries."

"I know, is daddy going to be okay?"

"With all our help, I think so."

"But he's real sick now?"

"Yep. We promised not to lie to you about him."

Jack nodded. "Could he die?"

"Not likely, Jack, he's sick cause of the damage the bullet did. The wound made him susceptible to infection. But he's stronger today. But he's still weak. Okay?"

Jack nodded again. "So someday soon he'll come home?"

Sean smiled, "Yeah and we'll all party."

"Oh uncle Sean, even I know daddy will have to rest."

Sean held out his hand, "my man."

Jack pushed the door open. Quietly he moved to the side of his dad's tall bed. "Hi daddy."

Hotch whispered, "Hi buddy. No school today?"

"Oh daddy, it's Saturday."

Aaron looked confused for a moment. "Oh Saturday, I think I lost everything since…Thursday." Each word a struggle.

Jack turned to his Uncle and held out his arms. Sean dutifully lifted him onto Aaron's bed. Jack scooted until he was right up against his father's uninjured side, he put his head down on his daddy's shoulder. "You know I love you right, Daddy?"

"Yeah Jack, that's something I know for sure."

"Do you love me?"

"Everyday, I love you, so proud of you."

Jack nodded and yawned. Within moments he was asleep.

Hotch kissed the top of his sons head. He stifled a cough that sent fire through his lungs, but managed to stay still. Within minutes he joined his son in sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Gray Rooms Chap 6

He and Morgan hadn't partnered up in quite a while, Rossi thought, and now it's background work. Victimology was something they both did well, he admitted to himself. However he did not look forward to meeting little Charles Wilson's father and he worried just for a moment about Morgan's temper. None of them liked the cases involving kids, but Morgan was just as bad as Hotch about them.

"So how about you play good cop." Rossi grinned at Morgan.

"You mean rather than pound this guy's head in?" Derek was holding his anger in check.

"I know how you feel about abusive adults…"

"I'll try to stay calm, okay. It'll be a learning experience, right?

"So Charles Wilson, a pretty good kid considering his home life. Good grades, not bullied in school." Rossi sighed. "His mom died last year."

"Then he's kidnaped, beaten and murdered. No life at all."

Rossi stared at Morgan. "No, not a life, I really hope that his mom loved him."

The SUV ran in silence through the streets of Scottsdale until the address was announced on the gps.

Checking their guns the two agents stepped from the car. The house was on a quiet street, it looked abandoned. Spanish style with peeling paint on the door, there was no indication that anyone lived there beyond the dust covered colorless car in the driveway.

Rossi knocked at the door, he turned to see a neighbor letting a curtain from the window fall back into place. "We should talk to the neighbors."

Nodding, Derek looked in the direction of Rossi's gaze.

The door swung open to reveal a man in a teeshirt and khaki shorts. His hair was graying and was the deeply tanned and lined face of someone who worked outdoors.

"Emory Wilson? I'm Special Agent Derek Morgan and this is Special Agent David Rossi, we're with the FBI."

"Mr. Wilson, I'm agent Rossi. I understand you like to beat up little boys."

"What? No, I never."

"If you lie to me I can have you put in jail in minutes."

"Look Agent Rossi, he drove me crazy, always in the way, always talking, smiling. He was like my wife, after she died he just reminded me of her. "

"According to hospital records you nearly killed her on two separate occasions."

The man stared. "I should never have married. She never pressed charges."

"So you took it out on your son?"

"I could never understand why she didn't take him away. She was a lousy mother."

Rossi sat down across from Wilson. "I want you to think very carefully, can you tell me where you were on March 3rd, that's about 4 weeks ago."

"I was travelling. I travel for work."

"Where were you?"

"Oregon, I drove to Oregon."

"You drove through California?"

"No, no through New Mexico and Idaho."

"Do you have records? Receipts?"

"You can check my credit cards right?"

"We will."

"Cops." Wilson grimaced. "You are the ones took my boy from me."

"No, but we're trying to find who did." Morgan said evenly. "Anything you can tell us about that day, about Charles will help us."

"Can we come in? Rossi asked.

Wilson looked at the two agents, "makes no difference to me." He backed into the hallway and the two agents walked in.

The interior of the home was in mind numbing contrast to the exterior. Inside not a stitch was out of place in the starkly furnished rooms. Derek noted a few dishes in the sink, but other than that the kitchen, glimpsed through a doorway glistened. The living room was spotless, a sofa, chair and television indicated that was what the space was used for. The tiled floors were spotless.

"Nice place." Rossi nodded.

"My mom, comes over every Monday, helps to keep things good. That's why I don't understand them taking Charles. Mom and me we looked after him. I know I'm a bad drunk, but I have been trying."

Morgan turned his head toward Rossi, this was not the man who'd been described in reports as confrontational and intractable.

"I notice you've got a black eye."

"Bar fight, I'm trying to do better. I want my boy back."

Rossi frowned, " , you do realize Charles died?"

Wilson bowed his head. "He was barely eight."

"Do you think we could look at Charles's room. " Rossi walked toward the door.

"It's a mess."

"That's okay, we understand, he was a little kid, they can get things everywhere."

"No, I mean when he left I was angry. I threw things, wouldn't let my mom clear up in there. So angry."

Rossi moved to the hall, "is it this way?"

"Yeah, this way," and Wilson opened a door to the right of the hallway. The agents snapped on evidence gloves.

As warned there were a few things scattered around the room. But in general, the room had a military neatness. Wilson stood in the doorway as the agents rummaged about the room.

"He tried really hard to be the kid I wanted." Wilson took a step back into the hall. "I'll make coffee."

"Do you know any eight year olds who make military corners?" The bed was small and tidily made with white sheets and a single dark wool blanket.

"Strange, but I guess not unheard of. Morgan, there are no toys in here."

Morgan was taken aback. "Was his dad military?"

"I have to read the report again, I don't recall that. But the uniforms?"

"I've got a pic of him on my phone, I'll send it to Garcia and Reid. But this guy, he really doesn't seem violent more desperate."

Rossi moved to a small desk. "No computer, no games."

"Here's a math workbook." Morgan carefully bagged the book. He started looking through a chest of drawers. "Paydirt." He lifted and held aloft a photo of a small boy with his mom and dad and a third man.

"Wonder who number 2 male is?" Morgan bagged the photo and handed it to Rossi. Rossi walked out of the room and headed to the kitchen.

He stood at the kitchen door and watched as Emory Wilson stared out the window a coffee filter in one hand the water running in the sink. "Mr. Wilson? Sir."

Wilson looked up, then caught himself in the midst of coffee making. He put down the filter and reached to hold on to the counter. "My boy," he cried. "It's my fault. I thought it was social services, but it really was me. Agent Rossi it's my fault he's dead."

Rossi stood next to Wilson both leaning against the kitchen counter. "You couldn't have known. And look around here, you are trying to make a better home."

"He's all I have…"

They stood quiet for a minute more, then Rossi said, "I really could use some coffee."

Morgan continued to search Charles's room, the closet yielded only clothes, under the mattress only a few dust particles. The desk however had a small stapled together stack of papers. And in a child's handwriting was a journal of sorts. He photographed each of the eight pages and emailed them to Reid. The journal was bagged and tagged.

The two men having coffee looked up expectantly as Morgan walked through into the kitchen. Wilson rose and got a cup out of the cabinet. And Morgan sat with a soft sigh.

Rossi handed the bagged photo to Wilson, "Do you know the other man in the picture?"

Wilson looked at the picture, the man could have been his brother they looked alike, but in truth it was his brother in law. "That's Dom Haver, my wife's brother. He got on well with Charles." In the photo Dom had his hand around Charles's upper arm. It looked playful, but the child had a slightly alarmed look.

"Can you tell us where your brother in law lives? Did he have contact with Charles this last year?"

"Sure, he works for social services in Phoenix, lives downtown. He gave me the black eye. He couldn't believe I didn't give him custody of Charles, you know?"

"Do you have an address?"

They got into the SUV and headed over to the Walker house. Knocking there was no answer. Rossi bit his lip a moment, "let's see if we can get a warrant."

CMCMCMCMCM

My Book by Charles Wilson

When I'm old I'm going to read this to remember now.

I'm 7 years old. Mommy went to heaven today. Anyway that's what Grammy says.

I'm not sure there's a heaven, why would God want my mom there. I need her here.

I have to start over. Daddy hates school I think.

I like staying home, but daddy wants me to be good.

All the time

I don't think I can be good, not all the time.

I have a workbook for arithmetic

Easy stuff

Grammy says to do the easy stuff and she'll get the next one for me

She lies to me

Home alone, daddy went out

I try to be good

The lady in the hospital showed me how to spell hospital

She was nice

I don't have to make my bed here

My arm hurts

I didn't fall down the stairs. (she teaches me to spell stairs too, I'm forgetting stuff from when I went to school)

Home again

Hard to make my bed with one arm

Grammy helps me, but she's not as good as dad wants

Maybe daddy will stay out all night

Her card is in my shoe

I'll try to be good first

Uncle Dom came by today

He's friendly sometimes

He wanted to play a game

I don't like his games

Daddy says I can go back to school

I'm almost 8

I don't have friends there anymore

I miss my mommy all the time

I can't remember her face

I think I'm just a bad boy

Maybe school is bad for me

A bad fluence, daddy says

I try to stand up straight

I try to be quiet

Should I be quiet when he asks questions

I don't know

I wish mommy was here to help with the answers

Reid wiped his face with his cuff. Usually he could keep his distance from cases. This case was getting to him. He picked up his phone and dialled.

"Jack here."

"Hey Jack, you have your dad's phone."

"I only answered cause it's you."

"I know. I wanted to talk with you."

"Okay, what is it papa?"

"Jack I have a case that's really bothering me."

"It's very bad?"

"Yeah, I just worry about you and your dad a lot."

"Daddy would ask you to focus on what you're doing."

"I know, I guess I needed a Hotchner to tell me that."

"You're welcome."

"How's your daddy?"

"The doctor told me he's better, but papa he looks very pale and sometimes he gets tears in his eyes. I wish I could make it better. Somehow."

"We love you so much Jack."

"That doesn't make daddy better, Spencer."

"He's back in ICU?"

Jack nodded, then remembered he was on the phone. "Yeah, it's a compic..complication, you know, infection. "

"He was doing well."

"Yeah he could walk to the nurses station and stuff. But now he has to be in bed again 'til they unhook him."

Clearing his throat and wiping his eyes Spencer insisted he had to be strong for Jack, "Have you got plans for the day?"

"Aunt Jess is taking me to Little League try outs, I really hate baseball."

"Want me to get you out of it."

"Would you? No, I guess I'll do it for her, she thinks it'll keep me social. I think she wants me to be a sports star, I hate to tell her I'm not interested."

Spencer laughed. "Got that."

"School's almost over, Spencer. I might not get all A's this time."

"It's okay Jack, you've been distracted."

"I want daddy to be proud of me."

"Oh Jack, that's already guaranteed."

"Okay papa I need to get these stupid shoes on."

Spencer smiled at the phone. "Go get 'em. And Jack tell your daddy I miss him."

"And you love him right."

"Bye."

Spencer pressed End and looked back on the printouts of Charles's journal. He reminded himself that life really wasn't fair. His phone jingled and he opened the email from Derek with a picture of Charles and his family and a picture of Dominic Haver standing at what looked like a kitchen sink. He'd go visit Jacob in the hospital once he talked with JJ about the journal.

He hit Garcia's speed dial.

"World of FBI wonders, how can I help you boy genius?"

"Garcia, did you get the Wilson family photo from Derek?"

"I did indeed."

"Could you isolate the uncle's face, I want to see if Jacob recognizes him."

"As we speak, just give me a few minutes and it will wend its way to your email."

"Do a background…"

"On Dominic Haver, in the works already. Are you getting close?"

"Garcia, you didn't tell me Hotch was back in ICU."

"Uh, no, I'm sorry, JJ and Rossi…"

"Garcia, don't let that happen again." Spencer said flatly. "I don't want to have to find out from Jack again."

"Oh I am so sorry."

"Fine, just get me the information."


	7. Chapter 7

Gray Rooms 7

Reid stared at the pictures of the suspects. He thought that just possibly one was the unsub. They all seemed to fit the profile of a preferential pedophile, though it was a difficult call. He was sure that Charles's father wasn't the killer, though Charles's uncle looked fairly good for it. The social worker who'd been the driver where Charles was lost was a good choice as well. He couldn't discount the missing social worker who Jacob had described, the professor in California ended up being in his 80's and not fond of children.

From reliable data on pedophiles he was looking for a male between 25 and 45, someone who likely displayed in childhood and youth the serial killer triad. The man was preferential, but would deviate from his ideal. The overkill stumped him, but perhaps he'd been a victim of a pedophile or abuse.

He stared out the window. He worried the seam at the cuff of his shirt, his thumb rubbed at the stubble at the corner of his mouth. He thought about taking pictures up to Jacob's hospital room and see if the boy could identify his attacker.

Sheriff Braden walked into the conference room. "There's another one. Missing a couple days."

Reid looked wary, "another boy? Where."

"Here in Denver."

"Jacob warned us."

"Sheriff we need to find Dominic Haver, now. If he's here we need to arrest him."

"I thought he lived in Scottsdale?"

"Find Sutton Barros."

"We'll try, but we don't have the resources…"

Turning his back on the Sheriff he dug his phone out of his jeans. "Garcia?"

"Yes, my genius g-man."

"Where are Dominic Haver and Sutton Barros right now. Have you got backgrounds."

"A moment, as I work you will get answers. Sutton Barros is, there's a credit card transaction at the Starbucks about 2 blocks from you. Dominic Haver is apparently on the road, got gas about an hour ago in New Mexico and looks like he's on the road toward Arizona."

Reid turned and nodded to the Sheriff.

"Both?" Braden said rhetorically.

Reid nodded. "I'll get to Jacob and ask him if he recognizes either of them."

"Both match the description Jacob gave us. Light blond very light blue or gray eyes, neither is over five feet nine, both are smallish men Barros weighs in at 145 and Haver at 150 per drivers licenses. Oh look here, Barros was arrested for indecent exposure at a protest rally, charges were dismissed. Haver has no marks against him. Both use SnapFish on the web." Garcia silenced.

"Pen?" Reid said, afraid the line had been dropped.

"The pictures are of children."

"Whose?"

"There are pictures of Charles. Not pornographic or anything, just lots of pictures."

"Obsession maybe?"

"My niece doesn't have this many pictures of Justin Bieber on her hard drive."

"I'm going to go talk with Jacob. Any pictures of Jacob or Lisa or the new missing Jeffrey Pell?"

"Not that I've seen, does that mean there's a new body? Never mind I didn't ask."

"Garcia, how're Hotch and Jack?"

"Hotch is once again making the journey to the nurses' station with assistance. Jack answered the phone 'Hotchner' last time I called. I totally cried afterward."

"Thanks, I've got to go now, if you talk to them tell them I'm thinking about them."

"Will do. Go get 'em champ."

As he walked out of the Sheriff's office he saw JJ on the phone with the press. She shrugged at him and he gave the sign to wind up the conversation.

"What have you got?"

"I'm going to see Jacob, come with me?"

JJ nodded, "on your six."

Reid grinned at her. And they rushed out to the SUV.

Scottsdale

The SUV could not go fast enough for Morgan, he hit the city limit going 80 and headed toward the direction that would intercept Haver. With any luck the missing child would still be alive and with him. He didn't give much for the chances of that happening.

Surely the killing of all those children wasn't done to cover up the killing of his nephew. He'd seen enough to know it could happen, but hoped against hope that it was the other guy and this one just loved his nephew.

Rossi held on to the grab bar above the door. He wished he'd had time to really consider the two suspects, they'd both started out here in Arizona. And Arizona seemed central to the killings. "Wouldn't you have loved to be in on the bust at Starbucks in Denver?"

Morgan couldn't help grinning. "Hope it was done tastefully."

"How far do you think we'll have to go?"

"His gps puts him close to New Mexico. Looks like he's taking major highways. A couple hours."

"Dominic does seem like a man on the run, what other reason could he be in Denver? "

"Yeah but he's got no record. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"Hidden maybe. Let's ask Garcia to look deeper."

Quantico, Virginia

Garcia didn't do frustration. And finding records for the two suspects only lead her up blind alleys and into dead ends. She took a moment and rubbed her eyes behind her new black cats eyeglasses. Taking a few deep breaths she thought about centering herself, of staying calm in the face of worry. She hated cases that involved kids, and dead kids really bothered her. It helped that the entire team felt the way she did.

Feeling renewed, she restarted her background search. There had to be something. Then it occurred to her to check out the entire Haver family. And suddenly there it was, Dominic's sister had been hospitalized a half dozen times, for extreme clumsiness if the reports were to be believed, and then a doctor's visit for a burned hand for Dominic. "Oh you are a classic," she said to herself and punched up Morgan's phone.

Denver, Colorado

Her phone rang when Reid pulled into the hospital parking garage, the display indicated Hotch's phone, but she knew she'd hear Jack on the other end before she picked it up. "Hey there, Jack."

"Hi, Auntie JJ."

"Can I help you with something?"

"Daddy would like to go home now."

"Did his doctor say it was okay? Yesterday he wasn't even awake."

"Doctor says maybe tomorrow, but Daddy is pretty mad."

"Jack are you in your father's room?"

"Yes, Auntie JJ. You want me to give him the phone."

JJ could hear and feel the relief in Jack's voice. "Sounds like a plan."

"Hotchner." She barely made out the greeting her boss's voice was a mere whisper. This might be too easy.

"Hotch, now you listen to me if you won't listen to your doctor or Jack. You're staying one more night minimum. Got it."

Hotch didn't speak. She heard the phone rattle and fall. Then she heard the doctor, "Ms. Jareau, you do work miracles. I'll talk to the discharge nurse and we'll get him out tomorrow or the next day. He'll need help at home, can I get the nurse to call you or is Jess Brooks a better number."

"Call Jess and I'll call Garcia to get the paperwork in order. May I speak to Jack?"

"It's Jack now."

"Okay my friend, it'll be okay. Is your daddy all calmed down."

"Yes, thank you. But he's not happy about it. But he always listens to you. Something about you being Robin?"

"Jack if we're lucky the team will be back tomorrow, we're closing in on the bad guy."

"Yay, I miss Papa and everyone."

"Okay, I'm kissing your cheek by phone."

"Ewwww, Auntie Jay."

JJ laughed and punched off her phone.

"Jack?" Reid smiled, "not sure how he knows that you have that certain touch with his dad."

"When all else fails call Auntie JJ." Reid took a deep breath, "I hope this line up doesn't stress Jacob any more than he has been."

JJ nodded. "Not sure he can take much more. His grandmother should be here today, that has to help. Being alone and afraid has to be the worst thing. You've been calling him?"

Looking up Reid nodded. "I was worried, all the isolation and the doctors and nurses are so busy. I dropped by last night and read to him for awhile. Watched him sleep."

"You are a good man Spencer Reid."

Reid shrugged. "I'm learning, I'm still insensitive a lot. Jack. Jack helps cause he doesn't allow it."

Picking up his ringing phone Reid answers, "Reid here."

"Have you talked with Jacob? Is Barros in custody?"

"Rossi. We're about to go into Jacob's room."

"We've got word that Dominic is likely our guy, but I'd like to talk with Barros. We're about an hour away from intercepting Haver. Let us know what's happening with Jacob."

"I'll call when I've talked to him. I don't expect much. We'll get back to Barros after."

"Okay talk to you soon. There's email from Garcia."

JJ walked into Jacob's room ahead of Reid, the kid looked tired, he didn't meet her eyes. When Reid walked in the kid managed to raise his hand in a small wave.

"Hey Jacob. You remember my friend JJ, right?"

Jacob shook his head shortly.

"The first time I talked to you?"

"Maybe," the boy said timidly. "I remember there was someone else in the room."

"That was her. She's just going to sit over there by the door. She's from the FBI too, you remember I'm with the FBI? I'm looking for the man who hurt you."

"I remember."

"Good, that's very good. Can you tell me again what he looked like, so my friend JJ can hear the description, in case she knows someone like that."

Jacob's eyes closed then he opened them quickly, "I don't want to remember that. I want that to go away."

"I know Jacob, but you remember you weren't the first one he hurt, and you told me he had another boy. Jacob you can help the other boy if we can catch the guy before he hurts him."

"Spencer, he already hurt that boy. He kept giving us pills and stuff, so we'd be quiet. Spencer he already hurt us."

"I'm so sorry Jacob."

Jacob wept. Spencer sat on his bed, staying clear of the tubes and wires and casts. Jacob reached for Spencer's hand and held it. Hiccupping and trying to stop he said, "He wasn't nearly as tall as you, he had light blond hair, only not too much of it, his eyes were almost white, his skin was pale with freckles. His mouth had a scar from his lip to nose. He kept calling things games."

Reid nodded and reached into his pocket, he took out 5 pictures and started to show them to Jacob, "is that man in one of these pictures?"

Rubbing his eyes Jacob said, "I need my glasses."

JJ stepped into the hall, a few steps down the hall she stopped at the nursing station. "Do you have glasses for Jacob?"

"Glasses, let me check. Yes I think his grandmother overnighted them. He's been asleep… "She handed the glasses to JJ. "Sorry."

JJ nodded and rushed back to the hospital room.

Jacob took the glasses from her hands gratefully. "Thank you, everything has been so blurry."

"Did you have glasses while the guy had you?" Reid worried.

"Up until he thought I was dead, I think he took my glasses with him when he rolled me out of the car." He looked thoughtfully at the printouts. "This is him."

Dominic Haver.

"Thank you so much Jacob, I have to go, but I'll see you again before I leave town."

Jacob's eyes closed. He tried to relax.

"He'll never hurt you again Jacob."

"You'll keep me safe?"

Reid put his card into Jacob's hand, "If you need anything, if you have questions you can call me. Okay?"

JJ put her card with Spencer's. "And I'll be his backup. Anything Jacob."

They walked together out of the hospital. Reid called Rossi, "got him, it's Haver."

On the other end of the line Rossi smiled, "we're almost there."


	8. Chapter 8

Gray Rooms 8

On the jet to New York

The sound of the jet engines soothed her, it was almost a Pavlovian response. But she stared at her tablet and read about the suspect held in New York for shooting Snow. She was pleased that eye witnesses had taken the man down. Also pleased that he'd been a person of interest since Rossi had gone to Houston.

Revenge was common enough, but the thread that the victims shared was only tenuous, Hotch had testified to the legality of the warrant and attended a funeral of a friend. Howell had been a technical advisor states away when Longwell was arrested, he'd attended Huff's funeral as well. Snow had been in Seattle during the hunt and Rossi had written a few pages in his second book that included Longwell.

Longwell started out life in Washington state as the son of a preacher. He'd had his first run in with the law at the tender age of eight when he beat another kid at school, the other kid had been beaten unconscious and had concussion and later diagnosed brain damage that had led to permanent disability. At ten he knifed one of the kids in the detention center. He was hospitalized and was eventually released to his mother when he was 14. After that his record was for misdemeanors, mostly possession of controlled substances, at 16 he was arrested for soliciting and at 18 he started a killing spree killing three men over a period of two months.

The Seattle FBI never gave up on finding him, it took them nearly 5 months and he hadn't killed again. Hotch would call it good profiling and police work. Prentiss smiled to herself imagining Hotch as a twenty something gung ho probationary agent. She missed him entirely too much.

She checked her watch and decided a short nap was in order.

Somewhere in Arizona

Morgan floored the SUV he was tired of waiting. Now that they had the guy I.D'd he was ready to do some damage. Within reason of course. Rossi wouldn't mind. Derek grinned at the road ahead, in the next twenty minutes they'd cross paths with Haver. He watched Rossi check his Glock.

"Think he'll fight?" Rossi spoke sounding a little too hopeful.

"I doubt it, we're twice the size of his victims."

Rossi huffed out a breath, "There's just no getting used to guys like this, I profile them, I know what to look for and they always seem so damned normal."

"Pillars of the community."

"Yeah." Rossi reholstered his gun. "Just once I'd like to get into it with one of these cowards. Terrify them like they did the kids, make them hurt."

Morgan raised a brow at Rossi. "Let it go man, it's over, we're gonna get this guy and he'll go away for one hell of a long time. And pedophiles and kid killers don't do to well in prison."

"You're just trying to make me feel better." Rossi laughed and Morgan barked out a laugh as well.

"No more than fifteen minutes." He tapped his Bluetooth headset, "Baby girl, you with me."

"Only for you, you do realize it's going on 9 at night here?"

"Have you got a location on the target?"

"One moment, yes he's actually stopped in a small town just over the border in New Mexico."

"Damn, this guy has safe houses everywhere."

"You profiled him as organized my cocoa god."

"That puts the kid in a lot of danger. Okay I'm off, gonna see if this SUV can fly."

"Hurry my loves."

"Garcia, Rossi here, how's the head honcho?"

"He's doing pretty well, they're talking another day in the hospital then to the rehab hospital for 3 or 4, which he's totally unhappy about. I've been trying to work out getting a nursing service so he can go home, so far everywhere I turn is booked."

"Garcia, use my name and my house. Hotch can stay with me. I'll pay privately – though we don't need to mention that to Hotch or anyone."

"David Rossi, you cad. But yes I'm going to bet that works. Now you go chase bad guys and I'll work this end."

"Rossi," Morgan's voice sounded strangely hollow in the speeding car, "you really are okay."

"You do not get to spread that rumor or any other information."

"Got it." Morgan smiled and nodded. He reset his focus and started just about flying the SUV.

Rossi checked his phone, "got an address, Garcia you are amazing."

"Do you think Chambers is on the Reservation? It's in Apache County." Morgan wondered aloud.

"Haver is not American Indian. We'll get him."

Morgan indicated the rather desolate location. "GPS is telling me we've got half a mile."

"Welcome to nowhere Arizona, are there even houses?"

At that moment the GPS announced "location."

There was a small residence. The windows were boarded up and a lock hung open at the front door.

Morgan and Rossi got out of the car as quietly as they could. Not a cricket chirped there were no sounds at all. "Creepy." Rossi commented then, "I'll take the back."

The two men split up and Morgan walked to the front door. He leaned against the wall, giving Rossi a chance to get in position. They knew backup was a few minutes behind them but both felt that Jeff didn't have the luxury of waiting.

Rossi saw Dominic Haver look out a window at the back of the house. He whispered into his microphone. "I've got eyes on him."

"Copy, do you have a shot?"

"I want to see if the boy's alive, I don't want to escalate this."

"Rossi if you have the shot, take it."

"He's not in the window, the back door is open. I'm in."

Turning the knob on the front door Derek entered the house silently. He looked around quickly. The place was tiny. A main room and a kitchen. Listening with everything he had he heard the slight sound of a struggle and the harsh hushing sound.

He met up with Dave in the kitchen. "I think there's a basement. Sounds like the kid might still be alive."

Dave gave him a half smile and nodded to what looked like it might have been a pantry door, but ended up leading to stairs going down into a dark cellar.

"Dominic Haver, this is the FBI, come out with your hands on your head. Do it now."

"I'll kill this one too, just let me be, he's the last. I promise."

Rossi frowned, Morgan grimaced and shook his head. "Dominic, Jeff has parents waiting for him, you know I won't let you kill him."

"Foster parents, huh, all they care about is the money. He's better off with me."

"You've had him a long time Haver, time to let him go. You know him now, you don't want to do this."

"I'd take care of him. I would have taken care of Charles, if they'd let me."

"Put down the gun Dominic, we can talk, we can work this out. We're the FBI we can find someone to help you." Rossi was trying to be reasonable when all he really wanted to do was shoot the guy. "Give me the gun."

Dominic stepped forward. "I don't think anyone can help me." He placed the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger.

Morgan had braced for the shot, but when the gun just clicked he bolted forward and disarmed Haver. He spoke the Miranda rights to him. Dominic cried.

Rossi raced behind the two men looking for Jeff, he found the boy gagged and bound on the filthy floor. At first the boy shied away from him, so he took out his I.D. and badge. "I'm one of the good guys, you're safe now."

The boy allowed Rossi to untie him and then clung to the agent's arms. Rossi smiled, "I've got you, it's going to be okay."

They could hear the arriving police and ambulance and Rossi told Jeff, "they're here cause they all wanted to save you. They all know what a great kid you are."

And probably for the first time in the 7 days that Jeffrey had been a captive he smiled. "Safe now," he whispered into Rossi's ear. Rossi carried the boy up the stairs and met the EMT's.

"Be gentle right, and careful."

The EMT looked serious and nodded. "He's been through enough."

As the boy was being settled onto the gurney, Dave pulled his business card from his billfold and put it into the kid's hand. "You need anything you call me, you have trouble finding a new family you call me, I know people."

Jeffrey smiled wanly but said. "I will, and I believe you."

Morgan and Rossi stayed with the police until the scene had been gone over fiber by fiber. Getting into the SUV Dave started the drive to Flagstaff then on to Denver. They were tired, but feeling good.

"Do you think Haver is right, no one can help him?"

Dave looked away from the road a moment at Morgan, "I've seen and worked on so many cases involving pedophiles, rapists, killers and I do wonder. I'm beginning to think once they've committed to their fantasies there's no going back."

Morgan stared out the window at the swiftly moving scenery. "I thought he was going to kill himself that he'd never let himself be taken."

"I know, but we never profiled him as suicidal, he'll stay alive and wait for his next chance."

"That is a depressing outlook." Morgan offered a small smile.

"What can I do, it's what I think, as depressing as it is.

New York – Riker's Island

The prison was just as dark and drab as she remembered it from the one time she'd done a custodial interview there with Hotch. This time she was on her own. She felt much more self assured than that first time those 5 years ago.

She walked into the dun colored room. Longwell sat at the table, his hands and feet shackled to loops in the table and floor.

"Mr. Longwell, I'm FBI Special Agent Emily Prentiss."

Longwell nodded a greeting. "I didn't mean to kill no one."

"But you have killed before."

"I did my time. But that Howell fella, that was a total accident. I only meant to be hurting them, like they hurt me."

"No one shot you, Mr Longwell. No one put you in the hospital for weeks on end."

"Was just a little revenge, I knew I'd get caught eventually. I'll do my time, I don't know how to live on the outside anymore anyway."

"We're considering sending you to Texas to stand trial."

Longwell paled. "Oh. Well I am sorry that guy died, but he was the one who worked with the evidence. It wasn't fair, my lawyer wasn't as good as he should have been."

"We'll check into that Mr Longwell. Are you telling me this was revenge. You wanted to hurt all the people who put you in jail?"

"Guess so, I thought about it a lot while I was inside. I saved all my money."

Emily rubbed her face with one hand, then just looked at the suspect. "Why, you learned a good skill inside, you could have had a normal life."

Longwell shrugged, "the idea was just too big."

Nodding Emily rose.

On the BAU plane somewhere over the Midwest

Reid paced the aisle of the plane.

"Just stop." Rossi barked.

"I'm worried. I didn't even know Hotch was back in the ICU a second time until he was being moved back to the surgical floor. You guys kept this from me?"

"Come on Reid, you found out when we did, for the most part."

Reid collapsed into a seat next to Morgan. "What are you listening to, I can hear this tinny sound."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "It's an audio book."

Reid popped out one earbud and listened for a moment. "You're listening to Rossi's book?"

"About time." Rossi said, though everyone assumed he'd fallen asleep.

"We need Hotch back, if just to referee," JJ quipped.

"Strauss said if Hotch doesn't retire the bureau is going to put him at the academy and consulting with the BAU teams," Morgan said.

"He'll hate that." Reid sighed. "Or maybe not, after the stabbing and beatings and shootings, maybe he'll agree it's time."

"He'll be back, this is who he is. He'll do what he has to do. Besides there's another triathlon he wanted to do."

They all grinned at each other and settled to listening and napping.

JJ answered her phone to Prentiss on the line. "Hi, how'd the interview go?" JJ touched on the speaker.

Emily's voice joined them in the cabin. "The guy is a hairball."

Rossi choked on his laugh.

"Seriously," Emily continued, "Sergio has coughed up more intelligent hairballs."

"Oh, I am so sorry Em," JJ said not meaning it.

"I get all the whack jobs don't I? Do the rest of you stay up nights dividing the work so I end up talking to junkies and psychos?"

"Come on Em," Reid cracked, "we're all on that rotation, this week was sociopaths and pedophiles. Maybe next week we'll find you someone closer to on earth."

"Fat chance. So I'll meet you all at the hospital in a couple hours."

"Did you get the news from Garcia? Hotch's gonna stay at Dave's for a week after he gets out," JJ added. "Him, Reid, Jack and the kitten."

Reid looked up startled, "we so do not have a kitten."

3 people smiled at him. Saying as one, "oh yes you do."

"Does Hotch know?"

"Jack's been working up to it." Morgan said with a huge grin. "He might have mentioned it by now. It stays at Jess's place."

Reid rediscovered breathing.


	9. Chapter 9

Gray Rooms 9

The breath he took was shallow, he blew into the device the respiratory therapist held for him, it didn't hurt. So the next breath was just infinitesimally deeper, still good. He now assumed he was dreaming and took an unfettered deep breath, which felt as if it was tearing at the very molecules that held his lungs together.

He felt a tiny hand in his. Jack smiled at him. "You're doing really good daddy, every day is better."

Aaron didn't want to tell Jack that he was ready to just give up. "I think it's enough."

"No daddy, you can't give up."

He wondered if he'd said anything about giving up, or had Jack become more sensitive to his father's despair. "It hurts, buddy."

Jack nodded. "Just a few more times."

He wiped tears from his eyes, looked at the therapist, took a few tremulous breaths and took a breath slightly above shallow and blew into the infernal plastic tube. Jack watched as the indicator rose slightly above the bottom. He frowned at his dad.

So Aaron took as normal a breath as his lungs would allow and blew again. He'd do about anything to wipe the worry off Jack's face.

Jack nodded.

The therapist set up a nebulizer and Aaron breathed in the medication, other times he'd coughed against it, but today it didn't seem so thick or invasive.

Jack held his hand and they both drowsed.

CMCMCMCMCM

The BAU team walked into the private room.

The first thing Reid noticed was that Hotch's hair was looking long and slightly messy. The second was that the man was too thin.

"Hotch," he whispered. "Aaron."

Hotch slowly opened his eyes, "Spencer. Oh god, Spencer it is good to see you." He allowed his eyes to close again.

"Hey boss," JJ said quietly, "we're back."

"All done?" asked a sleepy Jack.

"All the bad guys in custody. None of us got hurt, we didn't kill anyone," Dave said.

"Good, good." Hotch mumbled, the drugs in his system making it hard to think.

Rossi sat on the bed. "Hotch do you remember a killer, Longwell."

Hotch opened his eyes, but his look was vague. Still quite clearly he said, "in Seattle, I was still a lawyer for the bureau. Young guy."

"He's the one who shot you."

Hotch shook his head. "I just don't remember."

"It's okay," Morgan said, "they caught him in New York."

"Okay." Hotch replied.

"I hear we're springing you out of here day after tomorrow." Emily touched Hotch's hand.

"Jack said we're going to Dave's. Need a nurse for a few days."

They all looked at each other, not expecting the response, expecting Hotch to want to go to his own house, his own bed. But then when he'd been house hunting he'd stayed with Rossi, so was used to the scenario.

"And Baron is coming with us." Jack piped up.

Hotch smiled, "Oh yeah, Dave, did we mention we have a cat?"


End file.
